


Fulfillment

by Get_below_my_line_of_vision



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 07:57:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16237424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Get_below_my_line_of_vision/pseuds/Get_below_my_line_of_vision
Summary: “Do I know you?” Enjolras asked.The man merely shrugged, but Enjolras knew he was lying. The man’s shoulders were heavy, his chin dipped, as his eyes, although maintaining visual contact, was full of sorrow and pain; as if tears were about to consume them whole.“It’s just...” Enjolras’ eyes dropped down slowly as his hopes for answers dissipated, “I thought...I knew you.”Or reincarnated AU where Grantaire remembers but Enjolras doesn't.





	Fulfillment

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this all in one sitting while listening to wildly different songs, so the tones might shift constantly and dramatically, so I apologise in advance :)

“Do I know you?” Enjolras asked.  
The man merely shrugged, but Enjolras knew he was lying. The man’s shoulders were heavy, his chin dipped, as his eyes, although maintaining visual contact, was full of sorrow and pain; as if tears were about to consume them whole. But the man fought back.  
“It’s just...” Enjolras’ eyes dropped down slowly as his hopes for answers dissipated, “I thought...I knew you. From somewhere.”  
The man rocked from heel to ball of his feet and forced a smile that would have looked normal to everyone, everyone but Enjolras, “Sorry, I think you got the wrong person.”

With that, the man slowly walked off, unsure if the moment was the correct time to exit the very one-sided conversation. Enjolras was sure he heard a whisper, though he wasn’t quite sure what.

When Enjolras entered back home, Combeferre was quick to jump out of his room to meet Enjolras. It seemed to him that Combeferre had rapidly put on a bathrobe and had ruffled his hair. “Hi,” He avoided eye contact but not out of guilt, but more of an embarrassment than anything, “I was wondering why you stayed behind after that rally, you know? Usually we run for our lives when cops arrive. I was so scared you might have been arrested.”  
The latter placed his hand on his shoulder, “I’m always careful.” He was about to enter the kitchen until he turned swiftly around much to Combeferre’s surprise, “Also, try... not to hide anything from me. I’m not going to attack you if you sleep with my best friend.”  
“Really?” His eyes lit up.  
“If you hurt him, that’s a different story.”  
Enjolras strode to the kitchen, pulled out a carton of juice, shrugged, and chugged it.  
“How did you know about.. me and Courfeyrac?” Combeferre shifted in his place, rubbing the nape of his neck.  
“Currently? You’re wearing nothing but a bathrobe. Secondly, I always see you daydreaming whenever he’s sitting next to me. I may be... absent-minded when it comes with romance revolving me, but I can notice others’, and unfortunately, your litt--...gigantic crush was very, very obvious.” He limped past Combeferre to head to the bathroom, “I’m going to have a shower.”  
“What’s up? You just drank probably half of a carton, and now you want to have a shower?” He raised his arms a little to emphasise his confusion.  
“I’m checking if I’m drunk”  
“But you never drink alcohol.”  
Enjolras grumbled on (which he hardly did) something on the lines of “I have to check.”  
Naturally, Combeferre concluded Enjolras had at last lost his mind. Thus, immediately ran back to his room to tell Courfeyrac about the conversation they had just had.

In the shower, Enjolras did nothing but stare. At what exactly? Nothing in particular. At least in reality. In his head, however, his eyes never left a particular man. The scruffy man he had met earlier burned in his head. His heart was set on the fact that Enjolras must have been drunk... somehow. It did not make sense why his fascination on the certain man kept growing without any limits. Enjolras pooled water to splash on his face. When the water did not work his wonders of washing away his thoughts of the man, he painfully turned the temperature from hot to cold. It took a lot of endurance to not give out a yelp as the his warm liquid blanket had turned into a long icy popsicle running down his body. He repeated his previous actions by splashing his face.  
Nothing. By nothing, Enjolras’ brain was empty. No memories of the man remained. At this point in time Enjolras was happy about how his plan worked out.  
Feeling accomplished, he dried his hair, and walked out with a towel and headed to his room. 

He sat silently on his bed. He couldn’t even hear the giggles from the next room, in which his friends occupied. The reason being was the fact that Enjolras had only expelled is thoughts of the man for a minute. Then he returned.  
Like a madman, he paced hurriedly back and forth in his bedroom. Who was this man? Why did his face and voice ring some bells in his heart? Why was he so important?  
Then he stopped. Paused. Sat on the floor. What was the man’s name?

The next morning was quick to make its entrance and it was very clear for Courfeyrac, when he entered Enjolras’ room, that he was not ready for the morning. He was groaning and moaning for the the moon to rise again, all the while rolling around in the same spot he had sat in the night before.  
“Hey, if it makes you feel better,” Courfeyrac reminded, “We’re going to go out. Since we weren’t able to finish the protest we made yesterday, we’re going to continue it.”  
Enjolras groaned louder in annoyance, which almost made Courfeyrac frustrated, but then again, he had known him for many years, and had been acquainted with this sort of behaviour before. “That means, we’re going back there.”  
Enjolras ceased all noise he was making.  
Courfeyrac spoke to the man as if he was communicating with a child, “That means we’re going to be there at the same time and the same place as yesterday.”  
Like a toddler Enjolras propped himself up. To Courfeyrac, he had never seen such expression on him before, maybe with Combeferre, but never on Enjolras. He couldn’t quite place what emotions he was displaying. “Same place, same time.” He muttered.  
“Uh-huh,” Courfeyrac added, confused but amused nevertheless.

Enjolras only managed to stumble out of his room and walk down the stairs in the exact same manner.  
“Ah, you’re up,” Combeferre had a toast in his mouth which he bit off, “We’re going in twenty minutes-”  
“Ten,” Enjolras interrupted with assurance swimming in his eyes.  
“Um, I don’t think..” Combeferre’s eyes wondered to Courfeyrac out of habit who seemed to be shaking his head, Combeferre had experienced similar situations before thus knew he had to completely change his sentence to fit the best outcome, “That’s a bad idea.” He flashed a smile sincerely and jogged up the stairs to where Courfeyrac to ask him why he was supposed to follow Enjolras’ suggestions.  
Courfeyrac only recapped everything Combeferre had told him about the protest, and ‘randomly’ talked about how Marius, their friend, behaved when he had first seen Cosette. After the two ‘very different’ stories, Combeferre repeated his question in which Courfeyrac met it with a long sigh.

Enjolras quickly stuffed the leftover food he did or did not eat the day before (he could not recall), and ran to the door, to realise two sets of eyes observing him with curiosity. “I’m really passionate about the cause,” Enjolras coughed out.  
“Obviously, that’s why we’re staring at you, “ Courfeyrac nodded meaningfully.  
Enjolras was almost swayed into accepting Courfeyrac’s lie when Combeferre juxtaposed every action his boyfriend had laid out.  
“We were not thinking about any other factor,” Combeferre smiled widely (though he did not have a full grasp on what was happening) as he nodded too much for it to be natural.

Nevertheless when the three met up with the rest of Les Amis de L’ABC, the place was riddled with loud gossips and Enjolras’ mind returned back to his normal functional self as he naturally took over the role of the leader. He hushed everyone with his breath, everyone eager to be fed by his words.  
From then on, the man that had occupied most of his thoughts disappeared as his passion of a better future took over. Throughout his speeches and rants, the image of the man who haunted his mind for so long did not make an appearance at all.

When the excitement settled for a bit, Combeferre carefully took Enjolras by the arm and suggested for Marius to take over for a while since he believed Enjolras deserved a rest. Much to Enjolras’ protests, Marius was given his role, and Enjolras was escorted off to join the chatters.  
Many swarmed around him at first, firing him with questions, but as the muttering Marius somehow transformed to a poetic man, their attention was directed at Marius rather than him.  
It was also at this point when he was greeted with the similar face from the day before, and from another date he cannot place. He caught a glimpse of him, and walked through walls of citizens with grace towards the man who he could not stop thinking about. Enjolras opened his mouth to call out to him, but his throat went dry. He did not know his name. Instead he regrettably settled for “Hey!”. It took several tries, but he finally slowed his pace, but did not stop in his tracks.  
Enjolras’ anger grew now, he wanted to talk to him, there was no harm, “Hey, Grantaire.”  
The man then suddenly paused, his previously arched back straightening. He rigidly turned around, shock filling his tear-soaked eyes. “How did you...?”  
This unfinished question took its time to make sense in Enjolras’ head. Fortunately, Grantaire waited. More of froze, but Enjolras was not concentrating on him currently but rather in what he had just said. “I-is your name...” He forgot the name he called out previously.  
Grantaire gave out a sigh of relief or regret, Enjolras could not tell, and turned around to walk off.  
“I’m not going to lose you again,” Enjolras robotically grabbed his hand, “Ah, sorry. Look, I feel like I know you from somewhere.”  
“I told you before, I don’t know who you are,” he wasn’t facing Enjolras, his voice shaky, his eyes focusing on everything but Enjolras. “Please let go of me.”  
In surprise of his politeness, as if he was used to begging before, Enjolras loosened his grip. The man then ran off, disappearing into the crowd, but no matter how much Enjolras looked, the man never ran out of the crowd.  
His hand was cold with the man’s absence. Something scraped at the back of his mind. His touch reminded him of the past, but could not place on what exactly.

Enjolras was then faced with no choice but to return to his friends who were laughing as they flirted with ladies. When Jehan, on of the members, also the only one who wasn’t flirting with anyone, alerted the others with loud coughs. 

The oblivious Marius approached Enjolras, his words bouncing with joys and accomplishments, about how he was able to use emotive language and statistics to sway the voters. Meanwhile, Enjolras could not find strength to stand. In his imagination, he dreamed of flopping down to the floor and closing his yes to sleep. He forced his attention to stay in reality multiple times. He could not be weak in front of an audience, and definitely not in front of his friends, even Marius.  
In result, every twenty words or so that came out of Marius’ mouth, Enjolras nodded and smiled. However what he forgot was the fact that Marius, at some rare occasions, was shockingly accurate in observations. Turned out, Marius started to speak about Cosette to see if Enjolras would respond like everybody. Since his expressions did not change at all, Marius placed his hands on Enjolras’ shoulders to gently guide him to a set of chairs which some of his friends were resting on. They immediately sacrificed their seats for Enjolras as he started to escape his imagination of the man so-called Grantaire.

“Are you alright?” Marius lightly touched his forehead incase of any illness.  
“I’m fine.” Enjolras moaned, tired. It was then he saw Grantaire again, but emerging from the crowd, slowly, with an apologetic look. He should be damn well sorry, Enjolras thought.  
Marius was quick to notice where Enjolras was about to look, but he diverted his attention by requesting to be left alone for a while, and that maybe he or Combeferre can make his following speeches. Overriding with joy, Marius accepted and thanked Enjolras as he nearly hopped his way back to Les Amis de L’ABC.

Only when Marius left, Grantaire approached him with words, “I’m sorry. I was about to never come back, then I thought...why I came here in the first place today... I wanted to see you.”  
“Evidently, you didn’t want to talk to me.” Enjolras was not furious anymore, but thought this change of emotion was unnatural, so he tried to return to his prior emotion.  
“I was scared.”  
“I was scared too, my heart was beating all over the place,” Enjolras complained.  
Grantaire was a little taken back by surprise on the comment, but carried on his point, “You do know me, but not as me.”  
“What?”  
Grantaire thought for awhile as he took the seat next to him. He shuffled as close as he could with Enjolras and breathed, “Forgive me,” as he smacked his lips against his. He wanted to force the memories awake, but the kiss took longer than Grantaire had planned two seconds ago, and Enjolras leaned in with Grantaire mimicking his advances.  
Something did awake within him, but he wasn’t sure what. He pressed on.  
The kiss... It was familiar.  
“Grantaire,” Enjolras whispered when he got to separate their mouths apart for a moment to later meet them again for they craved more.

Alas it was Grantaire who broke the kiss, “Please don’t make me remember.”  
“Of what, Grantaire?”  
“Please don’t say my name like that. I don’t want to be reminded of... my past.”  
Enjolras finally burst open his aching question, “Did we ever meet before?”  
“Of course, but not in this life.”  
“What?”  
“You still don’t remember?” Grantaire seemed saddened by this finding, “I thought the kiss would have been a strong wave of emotion, but clearly it was not. Was I ever important to you then, monsieur?”  
Enjolras was very close to scoffing. Monsieur? Last time he checked, they were not as France...  
A younger voice called out for him. Enjolras froze. Where was the voice coming from? There were no children around this area...  
“Monsieur,” The voice kept calling out, “Je t’aime.”  
Then a quiet hush calmed the child, “You should not love me, it is forbidden.” Enjolras’ hairs stood up at the back of his neck. That voice... it was his of a younger age.  
“But I want to spend my life with you,” the lonely voice reached out.  
“You know what they will do to you. I do not wish that fate for you,” the child- Enjolras, began to cry, “No, no, not in my life. I don’t want such curse to fall upon you. Please, do not love me.”

Enjolras snapped back into reality, and pressed his hand on Grantaire’s lap. “I remember,” His voice was rasp.  
“You-you do?” Grantaire leaned in  
This time, Enjolras was not to let go of him. “I remember you fell in love with me as a child.”  
Grantaire’s eyes turned dull with disappointment and grief.  
“And I with you,” Enjolras confessed.  
Grantaire stared in disbelief.  
“Then-then,” His voice cracked.  
“I was called a witch,” Grantaire finished his sentence, “For loving a boy. I...”  
“Don’t finish the sentence, Grantaire, please. I know what happened...” Enjolras held Grantaire’s had tightly. “Yet I was not called to trial.”  
“You were beautiful, you had a future ahead of you, I think they made the right choice of only punishing me.”  
“Grantaire... don’t-”  
“I’m glad we met again. And I’m even more in love than I was before knowing you loved me as well.”  
Enjolras smiled solemnly. “Don’t use the past tense. I remember you now. Clear as day. I am still in love with you. Although I can’t say more than I was before.”  
“Why not?”  
“When you left, I felt overwhelming pain that would not let go of my heart. Even when I got married... Still, I ached to be with you.”  
Grantaire squeezed his hand. “Then the wish came true, didn’t it?”  
“If you put it that way.”

What the two didn’t notice was the darkening sky and the rest of Les Amis de L’ABC awkwardly watching them, silently pushing the other to inform that their protest had come to an end. Jehan suggested Courfeyrac should step up, but Combeferre and him did not respond. When Jehan looked closer, he also noticed the two had been holding hands. Whatever was going on with Enjolras and the stranger spoke to those two in an emotional level. Thus Jehan concluded he was not to say anything from then on until Enjolras and Grantaire broke out of the spells they had cast on the other.


End file.
